Star Wars: DARTH BANE
by princevegeta34
Summary: A new fanfic made to fit the new Star Wars continuity. Taking place 1,035 years before Episode One, this story tells the tale of a young Jedi who will usher in a new golden age of the Sith.


STAR WARS: BANE

Wind whispered through the valley, parting large stalks of thick green grass with delicate and airy fingers. Clouds rolled above, while large trees stood watch, ancient sentinels of the world. Dessel darted from the thick trunks of trees, dark hair bouncing on his forehead as the boy ran. He was nine years old, quiet and introverted, content to follow direction as opposed to leading. He crashed into the army of grass shoots with a hiss, the long fingers of the plants caressing his soft clothes. A black knife hung from his belt, and Dessel consciously kept his hand on the hilt of his meager weapon, and he kept his paranoid mind aware of the surroundings. He had always been able to reach _outwards _of himself, see things before they happened. In moments of great distress, he could even _move_ objects with his mind, but his skill was untrained- _and feared. _

"I'll show them." Dessel huffed to himself as he ran. His brothers, Kane and Cade, shared his gift. But they were allowed to be trained by their father, Horun. Dessel felt a wave of anger surge within him as the thought of Horun passed through his mind, a large imposing man, with a face scarred by war that bore distant eyes, eyes crueler than any word he could utter, harsher than any blow he could muster. Dessel knew where his family trained, knowledge gained after painstakingly trailing them for days on end. For now, he was content with receiving his father's secondhand teachings, watching Horun instruct his elder brothers, and then childishly parroting those actions when he was alone.

Dessel pushed his legs harder, bursting from a wall of grass, sliding down a steep hill muddied from last night's rain. Dessel reached the bottom of the hill and wasted no time attempting to clean the mud off of his clothing, but rather put up mental defenses. Dessel, and people _like_ him could sense other beings. The ability to mask one's presence had always been Dessel's strong suit, a skill that came to him naturally while his other powers were dangerous and untrained. He covered himself with an ethereal fog, erasing every spiritual connection he had to this world. For one with the _sense, _Dessel would be nothing but dust on the ground.

He continued on his way, passing through another gauntlet of twisting trees, darting from trunk to trunk. He skipped over a shallow mire, bouncing from stone to stone. The land changed, slowly turning more dark- less inviting and more dangerous. It was not just the appearance of the land either, but it was something he _felt_, like hands closing around his neck, ready to throttle him. Dessel remembered the first time he had followed his brothers and father, how that _feeling_ had almost made him scream, and run away with fear. He slowly grew accustomed to it, however, hardening his mind to the evil so that he in turn could bear it with strength. Dessel saw it then- the training circle. It laid on raised ground, black stone embroidered with jewels that circled the perimeter. Behind it an expanse of twisted and gnarled trees curled, their bodies thrown back with grasping branches, as if laughing at some vile jest. Dessel ran to the nearest tree, placing his hands on the trunk of it, his palms shuddering at the sensation of the slimy bark.

But then Dessel heard something.

"It is here, I sense it."

Dessel's heart nearly leaped from his mouth, turning with such force that he tripped on a root, landing on the ground with an _almost _silent thump.

"What was that?" Another voice stated, this one deep and gravelly. The two voices did not belong to anyone Dessel knew, but what he did know is that they were coming closer- _closer _to _him. _The voices were powerful in the _sense, _he could feel their glowing energies, like a cluster of burning torches in a dark tunnel. He saw their emotions as easily as one might read a facial expression, felt their fear, anger, and disgust. Something else was there too, _betrayal. _Heavy boots crushed twigs and parted sloppy piles of mud, growing nearer and nearer until Dessel saw the source. A helmeted figure clad in armor looked down at him, green eyes visible from narrow slits. The helmet bore horns that curved upwards, similar to the valley-rams that his brothers would hunt. Two more similarly armored beings joined the first, and it was then Dessel noticed the weapons notched to their belts.

_Darksabers. _

"It came from over here." The voice said, looking directly at Dessel but not seeing him.

"Do you think it is one of his traps?" another inquired. The first shook his head, turning away from Dessel, his dark red cape flowing behind him like waves.

"No. The one we seek is there, instructing his sons."

"Then we-"

"Yes. Kill all of them."

_Jedi. They're Jedi, like father. _

The three moved down to the circle, wordlessly drawing their weapons, black blades of energy spurting from the silver hilts.

Dessel moved in closer himself, fear pumping his heart but goading his mind.

"What is the meaning of this, Masters?" Horun asked, as Cade and Kane moved behind their father. The three circled, swords raised above their heads.

"You know why, Horun. Look around you. Look at what you have done to this place. This place of peace." the deep voiced warrior spat.

"You have disobeyed the order. You followed your friend's teachings. Cythenfil's dark arts." Another one said woefully. This one was a woman.

Horun drew his own weapon.

"Your sentence is death, then?" He asked. The woman nodded her helm, horns dipping towards the ground.

"You force our hand. We cannot allow your powers to corrupt Coruscant. We are still recovering from Cythenfil's-"

"Cythenfil did what he _had_ to. We _needed_ more power. Surely you all have felt it- that lingering darkness. Something is coming, something bigger than _any_ of us. He felt it, he felt it call across the cold expanse of space. But he controlled it, conquered it. Whatever weapon it is, it is a _force_ that ones more ancient than you or I use. A force they will use to destroy us." Horun looked at the distorted land behind him, and then turned back to his executioners.

"This . . . this new power has done much damage. But it is just another aspect of this world, you cannot have light without the darkness. We needed more time to perfect the balance, more time to control it. This darkness . . . this _dark side _is our light. _I will not let you extinguish it." _Horun thrust his hand out, pushing one of the Jedi off of the circle with horrific force. The body of the Jedi hit the tree Dessel hid behind, and the boy's heart quivered as he heard the Jedi's neck break upon impact. The two others, the man and the woman, reacted instantly, forming up on Horun. Their black blades crossed, spitting out cries of protest as sparks flew onto the ebony stone, lingering in light like dying stars.

They swirled in combat, masters of martial arts beyond anything Dessel knew. They moved not like humans, but of more akin to specters, demons of powers no being should wield. Horun sidestepped a blow that came from the male Jedi, raising his sword to deflect a strike from the female meant for the back of his head. He jumped in the air and kicked her back, he then raised his hand to the man, fingers locking in a snarl as the man levitated in the air, gasping for breath as he clawed at his throat. Horun pulled his arm down, and the male Jedi's head rolled on a broken neck as a lifeless body fell to the ground. He turned to face the woman, who held her shimmering black weapon with two hands, crouching in a defensive position.

"You are a monster, Horun." She said, fear in her voice.

Horun let out a laugh, and gave her a smile that caught Dessel by surprise.

"I am able to bear this evil because I see the future, I do not linger in the past. This power is protection. If you cannot face me, how will you be able to survive the war that is coming?" Horun asked.

"There is no war, Horun. The dark side corrupts you."

"Ah- yes, but with that corruption comes _clarity. _I can see the things that move about in the dark- Your adherence to only the light blinds you. We need both food and water to live- just as we need both the dark and the light to reach new heights. To protect our legacy."

The woman gripped her weapon tighter, armored fingers sliding against each other in metallic protest.

"I would rather starve to death than become what you are, Horun."

"I will oblige you." Dessel's father answered as he charged. The woman jumped over his sweeping blow, landing behind him on deft footpads. He turned- but a second too late. Her sword cut through him like butter, severing his spine so fast he still held the ignorant smile of a victor, unaware of his own death. The female Jedi pulled her darksaber away from Horun's corpse, which crumbled to the floor. Her horns turned to Dessel's brothers, who held each other as the cowered from her wrath. She stepped towards them, her sword shaking as it swayed in her loose grip.

_Do something Dessel! _His mind shouted. His breath escaped his lips in short, labored bursts, heart pumping against its skeletal prison in angst. He closed his eyes, and ran. He heard the sound of her sword cutting through his brothers, the sound of sheared skin and flesh. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks. He ran and ran, and when his legs grew tired he pushed them further. But he was halted.

Dessel felt arms close around his legs, pulling him to the ground. He flung himself around, and saw the armored Jedi. She constricted him with her mind, holding him in place as she approached. Light rain began to fall then, as tears furiously ran down Dessel's cheeks.

_I refuse to die here._ He said to himself as the woman stood over him, her body shielding him from the rain as it grew heavier. Thunder rolled in the distance, riding obsidian clouds like chariots triumphantly over a gray sky. She raised her darksaber, the energy of the blade hissed as it tasted the cool touch of rain.

"Don't kill me." He stammered between clenched teeth.

"I must. To protect our way of life." She said as she brought her sword down.

"_DO NOT KILL ME" _Dessel roared, a voice that was not his own backed his youthful yawp, his _sense_ powering it. He didn't only hear his words, he felt them, felt them as they passed through the air and into the mind of the female Jedi. He saw her then, saw her for who she was. Her name was Bastilla Shan, a newly christened master. He saw her life, her hardships, her dreams and desires. Everything about her was privy to him, and Dessel, even in his youthful ignorance, knew that at this moment, he controlled her. But his fear controlled him, and the only order he could give her was not to end his life.

Then the power left him, and he pulled, kicking and screaming, back into that dark rainy world. Bastilla stood, bewildered, her blade inches away from Dessel's face. She looked to the sky like a fool looking for god, and deactivated her sword.

"I will not kill you." She said.

Relief washed over Dessel.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asked.

Bastilla picked Dessel up by his collar, forcing him to his feet.

"I am taking you to the Temple. They will know what action should occur next."

Dessel followed the woman, feet plodding in the growing puddles of water that quenched the thirst of this cruel world.


End file.
